


A Christmas Party

by Sanctitatem



Series: Berena Christmas [4]
Category: Berena - Fandom, Holby City
Genre: Berena Secret Santa 2020 (Holby City), Bernie Wolfe: World's Okay-est Lesbian, Christmas, Christmas Party, Dancing, F/F, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Light Angst, Mistletoe, Sparkles, Stocking Filler, lesbian longing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctitatem/pseuds/Sanctitatem
Summary: Bernie knows she likes Serena. Serena has yet to realise her feelings for Bernie.An offer, a dance, and more, makes this Christmas Party one to remember.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: Berena Christmas [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051703
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73
Collections: Berena Secret Santa 2020





	A Christmas Party

**Author's Note:**

> My last Christmassy themed fic for this year. A fake-dating one-shot set at a Christmas Party, using stocking filler prompts for Berena Secret Santa 2020.  
> Big thanks to Pers for beta-reading it for me.  
> Enjoy!!

The night might have a frosty edge to it, but the inside of the hall did not. Large, oak doors opened to a wall of rambunctious noise and joy of the season. Staircases, of the deepest mahogany, framed the room, and chandeliers, hung high against the ceiling, accentuated the ruby red of decorations that adorned the balustrades.

The size and shape, of the room provided excellent acoustics. Indeed, once a concert hall, the seats and stage had been stripped out some time ago to make way for dancing, drinking, and chatter. The babbling of voices created a cacophony of sound, quite melodic in its way.

Leaning against the railing, Serena perused the hall from where she stood on the mezzanine level. This half-floor held one of the two bars and Serena had already put it to good use. A glass of shiraz in one hand, the nails of her other tapping at the banister, a small smile played on her lips. At this height she could easily see everyone who entered below, and watch them she did. So intent on her observations she didn’t notice that she’d gained an admirer of her own.

“You look like someone keeping an eye on their subjects,” a familiar voice sounded from over Serena’s shoulder. This pulled her attention away from the milling crowd as she turned her head to look at her friend and co-worker.

“I’m just watching.”

“Anything interesting?”

“No, not yet. Wait for them to get some of the open bar into them, then we’ll see.”

“Ha! I should have known.”

“What?”

“What a voyeur you are, Ms Campbell.”

“Takes one to know one, Ms Wolfe.”

The two women grinned at each other before they both looked down at the growing crowd of people.

“Many people you know?”

“No. A friend from St. James’ invited me. The free bar persuaded me. You?”

“A couple of old colleagues from the Army asked me to come. Something about needing to socialise more.” Bernie shrugged off the judgement with a huff. “Thought it was worth a look in.”

Truth be told Bernie did want to see her old friends again, but it wasn’t them that had truly persuaded her to make an appearance. As soon as she had found that Serena would be attending, that had made up her mind. In the days leading up to the party, Bernie had spent far too much time imagining what Serena would look like in one of her evening dresses. She wasn’t disappointed.

The deep maroon coloured garment sparkled in the light of the hall and clung in all the right places. It fit very nicely around shapely hips and a behind that Bernie was having a lot of difficulty not staring at. A shawl around her shoulders, Serena’s eyes shone brightly in the light and Bernie tried to make herself focus on that instead. Her eyes, her lipstick, her lips.

A calm silence had fallen between the pair and, while Bernie looked down to the floor below to distract herself from her friend, Serena found herself eyeing up the blonde. Bernie had chosen to wear a suit. It was a choice that, for some reason, Serena had not been expecting but it was one she liked. As Serena let her gaze move up and down the woman, she very much appreciated the way the outfit suited Bernie’s figure. That, along with how her blonde hair fell in a tousled mess over and around her face, meant that Bernie was not the only one finding themselves distracted. Although Serena insisted to herself that she simply appreciated Bernie’s fashion choices.

“Fancy making a deal?” Bernie asked with a half-smile.

“Hmm?” Serena asked, finally tearing her eyes away from the waistcoat Bernie was wearing.

Bernie pointed across the hall to a far corner where a group of gentlemen were talking very jovially.

“If the man at the back, the one with the red tie, comes and starts talking to me. Will you come and pull me away?”

Laughter bubbling up, Serena eyed the men up before glancing back at Bernie.

“Bernie Wolfe needing rescuing? Is he that much of a bore?”

“No, not professionally anyway. He …” Bernie broke off, clearing her throat. “Ever since he heard about my divorce, he keeps flirting with me.”

“Oh, doesn’t know when to take a hint?” Serena asked with a knowing tone.

“Something like that,” Bernie murmured, unwilling to divulge anything further.

“It would be my pleasure.” Serena nudged Bernie lightly with her elbow. “Was this a one-way deal or were you thinking of offering something in return?”

“A good bottle of Shiraz and your paperwork for a week?”

“Wow, you must be desperate,” Serena observed, noting Bernie’s dislike of paperwork.

To that Bernie shrugged and finished the dregs of her first drink.

“I’ll do it for the wine.”

At that Bernie grinned knowingly.

To some it might look like Serena was taking pity on her friend, but that was not the case. Serena liked her paperwork done in a certain way. She needed that control in her life and Bernie’s offer would only make her more anxious, not less. Especially with Bernie’s penchant for mess.

“Another drink, Ms Wolfe?” Serena offered; her own glass now woefully empty.

Bernie held out her empty glass for Serena to take back to the bar with a raised eyebrow.

“Starting as we mean to go on,” Serena responded to the unspoken question. As she took the glass from Bernie their fingers touched, a momentary warmth spreading up the blonde’s arm at the feeling of Serena’s skin.

Serena pretended not to notice how Bernie’s cheeks began to blush or how Bernie’s head ducked away from her. Perhaps it was the light. Perhaps the noise. Serena shook her head to herself as she walked away from the banister and towards the bar. Perhaps it was all in her head.

The evening started smoothly enough. There was a speech from the host, a round of applause for some retiring surgeon, and an invitation to the later auction which promised to be an expensive affair. Serena and Bernie had been pulled apart by old acquaintances at that point and directed over to different groups of people. Some wanting to discuss, at length, Bernie’s trauma experience. Others wanting Serena’s management know-how and to discuss the latest developments in vascular surgery. Nothing out of the usual. Nothing either of them couldn’t handle.

Soon the music started up again and people made their way onto the dance floor. Bernie stayed over in a corner, talking to Captain James Jackson, one of her old army colleagues. She watched, out of the corner of her eye, as Serena was pulled onto the dancefloor by some middle-aged man. Jealously sprouted in her stomach and took her by surprise. She had recognised her attraction before but this, this was new. There was unlikely to be anything wrong with the man, he just wasn’t right for Serena. Bernie’s mind couldn’t stop from thinking – _but I would be_.

So engrossed in thinking about Serena, Bernie completely missed what her friend was saying. The younger man beside her glanced over and then grinned.

“You have good taste.”

“What?” Bernie’s eyebrows shot up as her head jerked back towards James.

“That woman,” he stated, pointing in the direction of Serena. “You’ve been staring at her the whole time we’ve been talking.”

“No, no I haven’t,” Bernie immediately denied such actions even as her cheeks began to blush. She hadn’t meant to make it so obvious.

“Seems you’ve got a crush, Major.”

The man grinned as he patted Bernie’s shoulder. “Nothing wrong with a crush.”

Bernie’s eyes fell to stare at her hands, now nervously entwining themselves, her fingers gripping together tightly.

“It is when your crush is a colleague, and they’re not attracted to women.”

“Oh?” James sat back and watched Serena intently. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“How? Have you asked her?”

“Well, no …”

“Then you don’t know. People hide things every day. You know that.”

Bernie looked back at her friend, fear pinching her eyes.

“I can’t risk it. She’s … amazing. An amazing colleague. An amazing friend … I can’t ruin that.”

James’ expression softened.

“That’s always a risk. But you can’t stop trying, just to avoid ‘what ifs’. It could also be something _wonderful_. You deserve wonderful, Bernie.”

James reached out to squeeze Bernie’s hands, hoping to comfort her, before he stood.

“Just give it some thought, yeah? It’d be a shame to ignore your feelings when you don’t know how she’d react. You’ve put Marcus behind you, now think of your future.”

Shaking his empty glass in front of him, to indicate that he was going for a refill, he left Bernie in her chair with a multitude of thoughts spinning around her head.

“All I’ve been doing is thinking,” Bernie muttered to herself, almost mournfully as she leant back in her chair with a huff and watched Serena out of the corner of her eye.

Serena, oblivious to Bernie’s turmoil, had been having a whale of a time. The conversation had been intellectual, the company entertaining. Over the years Serena had perfected how to charm and beguile. Her charisma and magnetism seemed to know no bounds. It certainly didn’t hurt that the wine kept flowing and she was never at a loss for company. She was in her element, the complete opposite of Bernie.

Still, she hadn’t forgotten about her friend. Quite the opposite. Serena found herself glancing over to Bernie every so often as she talked or danced, pleased to see the blonde had some company of her own. She felt drawn to checking on Bernie but put it down to caring about her friend. They might not have come together but the least she could do was to help Bernie feel included. Especially when Bernie’s company always did Serena the world of good.

Soon lost to the offer of mulled wine and a dance from a rather dashing registrar, Serena’s focus was eventually pulled away from thoughts of her friend. The music was joyous and the atmosphere warm. Alcohol was soon freeing up the last of people’s inhibitions as the dancefloor got busier. The crowds soon blocked Serena’s view of the tables and chairs, and of Bernie.

The sudden change in music prompted Serena to pull away from the company she had acquired. A jumpy little dance number had gone into a slower, more sensual piece and Serena had taken that as her cue to leave. Excusing herself for some fresh air, she had just stepped off the dancefloor when she saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she smiled as she spotted Bernie and made her way over to the woman.

As she approached, from behind Bernie, she noticed that the man opposite her was no longer the army friend from before. Now it was the man that Bernie had mentioned. Never one to back down from a challenge, Serena’s back straightened, and her face fixed into a polite but stern expression. She was not about to take no for an answer.

“Bernie? Sorry I got pulled away,” Serena announced herself as she stood behind where her friend was sat and placed a hand on her shoulder. There was an edge of possessiveness to her stance. A fierceness bristled through her and the man had yet to speak. The force of such emotion startled Serena. Clearing her throat, she pushed it to the back of her mind, focusing on the situation before her.

Turning at Serena’s voice, Bernie’s shoulders sagged in relief as she found herself no longer alone. While there were many disadvantages to British politeness, including a frustrating inability to tell someone to just go away, Bernie had hoped that some might eventually learn what the word no meant. It seemed today would not be that day.

“Serena. This is Nick Rose. Surgeon at St James’. With Marcus.”

Serena gave a polite nod but chose not to take her hand away from Bernie’s shoulder.

“Oh yes, Mr Rose. I think we met at a conference last year.”

The man nodded vigorously, although he could barely take his eyes off Bernie.

“Yes, your talk on efficiency and funding within acute admissions wards was riveting. You really are quite the speaker, Ms Campbell.”

“Thank you.” At the compliment Serena at least found herself able to relax a little more. The man might be a bore, but he didn’t seem too threatening, so far.

“The offer is still there, if you want it, Ms Wolfe,” Mr Rose had turned his attention completely back to Bernie, now that the initial pleasantries were out of the way.

“What offer?” Serena asked staring down at Bernie expectantly.

“Oh, Nick was wondering if I’d like to go for a drink or something after the party.” Bernie felt tense under Serena’s hand even if her voice was light. Tilting her face up towards Serena, Bernie added: “I had said no.”

“I know, but it’s only a drink,” Mr Rose tried to reason, seemingly blind to how uncomfortable he was making Bernie. “What’s the harm in a drink?”

“What a lovely offer. But unfortunately, we have plans tonight. I was about to get some air, Bernie. Would you come with me?”

Taking in Serena’s hand on Bernie’s shoulder and what Serena had said, the man’s eyebrows rose. His eyes drifted to where Serena’s fingers were rubbing calming circles over Bernie’s jacket before flitting back to Bernie’s eyes.

“ ** _Oh_** ,” he said, surprised at the conclusion his mind had drawn.

“Oh?” Bernie’s brows knitted in confusion.

“You know you could have just said … if you … if you were already seeing someone,” Mr Rose stammered through, trying to pick the right words and somehow managed to not fall flat on his face at the possibility that his flirting never had the chance of working. His eyes moved from Bernie, to Serena, and back again.

It was then that Serena understood the confusion, but she took it in her stride. Moving to stand directly behind Bernie, she placed her other hand on Bernie’s other shoulder and let her hands drift a short distance down Bernie’s lapels.

“We weren’t aware we needed an announcement, Mr Rose,” Serena retorted, getting no small thrill from how the man squirmed under her tone.

“Uh, no, no, of course not. That’s not … I didn’t mean …” So worried about verbally tripping up and using a phrase that might come across as offensive, Mr Rose found himself stuttering for something along much safer lines. Face turning red, he gestured aimlessly between the two women as he tried to elucidate his words non-verbally.

It was a good thing that Bernie was sat down as she felt frozen in place. Less so from Mr Rose’s assumption of her sexuality or relationship status. It was Serena. Her words, her voice, her hands. She’d expected the brunette to refute such an assumption and yet, here she was playing into it.

Thoughts and questions whirled around Bernie’s brain.

What did this mean? Did she not mind that others might assume something of her that wasn’t true? Or was it true? Could Serena be interested?

She quickly rejected all possibilities of this being anything other than a friend trying to help out another friend. Serena had always been free with how she touched people. This was nothing out of the ordinary. It was hard, though, to keep that thinking in her head as one of Serena’s hands pulled back to start playing with the tips of Bernie’s hair. Heart hammering in her chest, Bernie tried to focus on the conversation and not on Serena’s body heat, which suddenly felt like a furnace against her back.

The man, now pleasantly dumbfounded, had leant forward against his knees and was admiring Bernie’s choice of outfit in a new light. He’d thought it quirky but now certain stereotypes came to mind, assumptions he really had no right to make. Bernie stared back coldly, uncomfortable under his inspection and furious at the position he had put her in.

“Marcus didn’t say,” came the weak explanation along with a shrug from the man.

“And why should he? Our private business is our own.” Serena’s voice held an undercurrent of annoyance that was no longer subtle.

Finally sensing that he was unwelcome, Mr Rose stood. Brushing down his suit, he awkwardly gestured at the women, still red from his embarrassment.

“I should go. Ah, yes,” he waved over towards the dancefloor, pretending that someone was trying to get his attention. “Must go. It was lovely seeing you both. I hope … I hope you have a nice evening.”

Once he was out of sight, Bernie sighed, and Serena chuckled.

“What an awkward little man,” Serena mused.

Patting Bernie’s shoulders, Serena took a step round the blonde’s chair and let her hand drag down Bernie’s shoulder and upper arm in the process. Supressing a shudder, Bernie looked up at Serena under a fringe of messy blonde hair, a half-smile given as a way of a thank you.

“I meant it when I said I wanted some fresh air. Want to join me?” Serena’s offer was genuine and her tone kind. She even offered her elbow as Bernie stood and finally looked more relaxed as she smiled, and Serena led the way.

The trip was short. The backdoor led to a sizeable garden that was mercifully quiet. Bernie’s fingers held onto Serena’s arm tightly, but once outside she took her hand back and wrapped her arms around herself. Walking a few steps over to a fountain, she sat down on the edge and stared into the water, mulling over what she wanted to say.

“Thanks for the rescue. Nick can be a bit full on.”

“Just a fool, who clearly thinks he’s God’s gift to women.” Serena replied, sitting next to Bernie, turned towards her so their knees brushed together.

Bernie laughed at that, a tempered one but Serena was relieved to hear it. While her plan had worked, there was a niggle of a worry in the back of Serena’s mind that she’d gone too far. Holding her hands in her lap, Serena resisted toying with her necklace as she considered Bernie for a moment. The quiet, only interrupted by the sound of trickling water, was calm and comfortable. It gave Serena confidence.

“Sorry if I over-egged it,” she started, with an apologetic grin. “Just seemed the natural way to go, given what he thought.”

Bernie’s eyes jumped back to Serena at that. The elephant in the room well and truly confronted.

“No,” Bernie’s voice was quiet but strong. She certainly didn’t mind Serena being overly friendly, flirty even. She stared up at the heavens as she mulled over her words. “It was just a surprise.” She glanced back at Serena once more with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well, it seemed to do the trick quite nicely. The idiot didn’t know where to look, let alone what to say.” A broad grin appeared on Serena’s face and she started to laugh. “I couldn’t believe how red he got.”

“He looked like he was about to jump out of his seat,” Bernie joined in the laughter.

Any momentary awkwardness was washed away by their laughter, like the bubbles in the fountain, carefree and light. Bernie loved watching Serena laugh. To witness her whole face light up, her eyes shine, and the weight of the world fall away. It was infectious and glorious. Bernie couldn’t drag her eyes away.

She was brought out of her thoughts over Serena’s smile by a sudden clasping of her hand. Serena had taken Bernie’s hands in her own and had the cheeky look of someone with a plan.

“What?” Bernie asked, with an edge of apprehension.

“Well, I was just thinking: what if we pretended to be together for the rest of the evening?”

That was not what Bernie had been expecting.

“For the whole evening?” She needed clarification even as her heart skipped at the thought.

“Yes! It would keep Nick off your back. Would keep several unwanted admirers off mine, and we could have some fun with it. I promise not to get too handsy.” Serena chuckled, her grin even brighter with mischief, if that was at all possible. Enthusiasm emanated from the brunette.

“And you’re ok with what people might think?” Bernie, while not going around announcing it to everyone, was still out. It wasn’t a secret. But Serena, as far as Bernie knew, was straight.

“Like I haven’t been dealing with that my entire career. Oh, come on, Bernie. You know I’m made of sterner stuff. Let them think what they want. It doesn’t change the truth.”

Bernie’s heart fell at that. She could hear James’ words repeated in her mind, but they faded into nothingness. Serena was straight, that seemed certain.

Using a well-trained poker face, Bernie thought about it. She knew she should say no. It was far too tempting, and a sure-fire way to get hurt. But it might get her a dance with Serena, more touches, more of those smiles. A longing that Bernie always felt somewhere in the centre of her chest, burst forth. It pounded in her heart, in her mind, in every part of her that ached to be touched. It was such a desperately lonely feeling: to want something, someone, so badly, and yet for it to be always just out of reach. This offer, however momentary, was too good to decline. Too tantalising.

Tilting her head and scrutinising the brunette, Bernie sighed as she realised her heart had already made her decision. Giving a small nod as her answer, Serena’s gasp of delight was all she needed to convince her mind.

“As long as you’re sure,” Bernie added, needing to make certain Serena knew what she was getting herself into.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” Serena confirmed.

“Alright then, Campbell,” Bernie looked back towards the hall. “I’ll take your lead.”

With a snort, Serena pulled Bernie along with her as she stood and headed back into the hall. Their hands were now fully entwined, Serena’s grip firm. Shoulders and elbows jostling together, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Sparks had always flown between the pair. Bernie was sure many more would fly tonight. Serena was relying on it.

The heat of the hall hit them as they entered. It was a little humid thanks to all the guests, but welcome after the crisp evening air of the garden. It was only just as they approached the dancefloor that Bernie realised what Serena wanted to do first. There was a lively, upbeat number on at that moment and Bernie inwardly cringed. Still, if it was what Serena wanted. Bernie only hoped she could make it look a lot more natural than it felt.

The heavy beat filled the air and was almost loud enough to vibrate the soft floorboards of the dancefloor. Laughter and chatter collided in an unpleasant way with the music until all that Bernie could hear was a dull roar in her ears. But Serena was there, moving to the music, grabbing Bernie’s hips, and helping her match the beat.

Soon everyone else became a distant blur as Bernie watched Serena dance. Even if it was just movement to the music, slightly uncoordinated but happy and free. Bernie began to feel something unlock in her chest. She began to feel as if maybe she could be that free and happy too. Serena’s joy was catching, and Bernie was soon grinning and bouncing up and down. Once or twice, she bumped into others, but everyone was in such a good mood that it was soon forgotten about.

Bernie started to think that perhaps this had been a good idea after all.

Then the music changed.

It was a jarring change. Gone were the heavy bass, loud drums, and fast melody. In its place came a slow dance number. One for lovers.

Clearly a request as it did not fit in with the rest of the playlist so far.

Everyone stopped dancing, confusion at the sudden change setting in. People started to drift off in different directions. Soon the dancefloor was only half full and there was a lot more space. Bernie had wrapped her arms around herself and was about to take a step backwards, hoping to avoid the slow dance, when Serena caught her arm.

“We could stay,” Serena suggested. From her expression it was clear that she wanted this dance with Bernie. That tied Bernie’s stomach in knots and yet she didn’t move.

“I’ve never slow danced with a woman before,” Serena added with a coquettish smile.

“Neither have I,” Bernie responded, suddenly wondering if she’d let Serena take this too far.

“Well then, no time like the present,” Serena took Bernie’s hands and placed them on her waist. “I promise to be gentle,” she added with a smirk as she placed her own arms over Bernie’s shoulders.

Their bodies were close. With the small heel that Serena was wearing, the inch or so height difference no longer existed. Bernie’s eyes darted around, trying to find somewhere to look that wasn’t Serena’s face.

“Bernie, breathe. It’s just me,” Serena’s brow creased in concern. Her fingers stroked through Bernie’s shoulder length waves as they swayed slowly from side to side. “We can stop if you want. If you’re uncomfortable.”

“No,” came the sudden reply, which shocked Bernie even though the word came from her own mouth. “No, I’ll be ok.” The blonde forced a smile onto her face as her head tilted but she still avoided direct eye contact.

Serena tilted her head, mirroring her friend, trying to catch Bernie’s eyes and when she did, she smiled.

“Just look at me and breathe. Nothing else matters.”

As soon as Bernie looked at Serena, she was lost. Those rich brown eyes pulled her in, and she found she didn’t want to look anywhere else, possibly forever. How could anyone?

Taking another step forward, Serena closed the gap so that their bodies were flush against each other. Serena could keep trying to kid herself that this was all to keep that man away but even she couldn’t deny the way her stomach flipped at the feeling of Bernie’s solid frame against her. How good it felt to be held by Bernie. Pieces slotted into place and suddenly Serena was aware that she might have feelings that stretched beyond those of friendship.

As for Bernie, her nerves were jangling but not through fear. As they swayed, one foot to the other, Bernie let herself relax, let herself indulge. Her senses became overloaded and overwhelmed from everything that was Serena. The way the light caught her hair, the crinkles in the corner of her eyes, the warmth of her body, the softness of it. The sweet scent of her perfume and the contours of her chin. The way her necklace drew Bernie’s line of sight to the perfectly plunging neckline of her dress.

Heart racing and blood pumping, Bernie felt warm, flushed. She was sure it all showed. Every thought, every dream. In the dead of night, when all she had for company was an empty bed and the stars, it felt wrong to indulge in sticky fantasies. A betrayal to give in to the suffocating ache that filled her in her loneliest hours. But this wasn’t a fantasy. Serena was there. Serena was real. If only for that night, Serena was hers.

As the song came to a close, Bernie became aware that she was staring at Serena’s lips. Staring at lipstick that she wanted, more than anything, to smudge with her own. Her arms had entwined themselves fully around Serena’s waist, and they were so close that their noses were almost touching. Slowing to a stop, Bernie cleared her throat awkwardly even as she found herself unwilling to let go of Serena quite yet.

The brunette, herself, looked flushed but if asked she would attribute it to the heat of the room. Her breathing was heavier despite the dance being slow. Her eyes were on Bernie’s lips.

The sound of shattering glass broke them both from their reverie. They jumped apart, and Serena’s hand flew to the nape of her neck, flattening down imaginary errant hairs. Bernie shoved her hands in her pockets and did everything she could to avoid seeing if anyone was staring at them.

“Drink?” Serena asked, forcing herself to get her bearings back after a beat. She didn’t wait for a response as she turned towards the downstairs bar, leaving Bernie to trail along behind her.

Trail she did, all the way until the pair were stood, awkwardly, waiting for the bartender to take their order. Renewed chatter filled the hall as there came a break in the music. There was only silence between the two women but even that couldn’t dispel the frisson of attraction the dance had sparked.

It took until both had a drink, Bernie necking half of her whisky in one go while Serena took one big mouthful of her wine, before either felt able to talk. Turning to face Bernie, Serena tried to sound light-hearted, needing to fill the quiet.

“Well, I think the plan’s going rather well. Do you think we’ve convinced anyone?”

Bernie nodded numbly, worried she’d somehow gone too far, let herself enjoy it too much.

“I do hope I didn’t push it too far,” Any attempt at humour was gone, replaced by concern at Bernie’s continued silence.

“Hmm, oh, no. You didn’t,” Bernie sounded distracted, still consumed by the feeling of Serena in her arms. “It … It was a nice dance,” she tried to put more effort into sounding fine.

“Yes, it was,” Serena said with a soft smile. “Thank you for being my first,” she added, all too belatedly realising what she had said when Bernie choked on her whisky. “My first dance with a woman,” she hastily corrected.

Coughing into her elbow, Bernie’s throat felt raw and her face hot. Catching her breath, she took the glass of water offered by the bartender, grateful for the distraction as well as for the relief for her throat. Feeling a pressure on her elbow, Bernie looked to find Serena’s hand there. The brunette had stepped towards her, wine glass abandoned on the bar-top to focus on Bernie.

“Sorry, slip of the tongue,” Serena apologised although her turn of phrase did little to help either of them. Both women now coming to terms with a burgeoning attraction and the possibilities that now brought. Serena sighed, “You know what I mean.”

Bernie gave a non-committal hum as she nodded, pressing the back of her hand to her lips.

“I … I enjoyed it too,” Bernie finally replied with a shy smile, her eyes tentative but bright.

“Well, nothing to say we can’t dance again, sometime.” Serena, buoyed by Bernie’s words, smiled more confidently.

“We’ll see,” Bernie cautioned, “I don’t attend many dances.”

“You should. I thought you danced wonderfully. It’s nice to see you relax,” Serena squeezed Bernie’s elbow before reaching back for her wine. “I’ll have to do my best to convince you.”

The compliment had Bernie glancing off to the side, embarrassed, while deep down knowing that she wouldn’t take much convincing where Serena was involved.

The pause in the DJ’s playlist meant that the dancefloor was now empty, and people were looking for refreshments. The bar got busier, people vying for the bartender’s attention, and the two women found themselves drifting down to the bottom of the bar. They leant there, standing close together, and found themselves people watching. Bernie had been glancing over to the other side of the room when she felt Serena pat her arm.

“Bernie look at what we’ve ended up under!” Serena’s voice was interspersed with her characteristic low, rich chuckle.

Looking up to where Serena pointed, Bernie’s heart jolted at the sight of mistletoe. It hung from the corner of the glass rack that ran above the length of the bar, and the two women had just wandered underneath it.

Slowly, Bernie’s eyes drifted back down to where she found Serena looking at her expectantly. Perhaps it was the wine or the heat or the atmosphere. But something drew Serena to Bernie, to her lips. Glasses were placed precariously back on the bar before Serena’s hands found Bernie’s face. She told herself it was to keep their illusion going but even Serena now knew that was a lie. Suddenly she needed to know what Bernie’s lips felt like and whether she would be able to taste the whisky on her tongue.

“Serena,” was all Bernie had time to whisper before she felt soft lips pressed against her own. Too smitten to do anything but kiss the other woman back, Bernie’s hands soon found themselves back against Serena’s waist. Their first kiss was tentative. Once broken, Serena pulled back to see Bernie’s reaction.

Blinking, Bernie felt as if time had stood still. The echoing noise of the hall fell away as her mind raced to catch up with her body’s actions. Unsure when she would get the opportunity again, Bernie acted on instinct. Rushing forward, she captured Serena’s lips and poured all her loneliness and aching into the kiss. Everything she had wanted to say, to admit, but had never found the words for. All the possibilities; all her love.

The force of emotion radiating from the blonde took Serena by surprise. This wasn’t acting. This wasn’t about going along with their plan. Serena could feel it was something more. She could also sense that it was what Bernie needed and Serena wanted to give Bernie what she needed. Wrapping her arms around Bernie’s shoulders, Serena gave as good as she got. Blind to the stares they received, their kiss was heated and passionate. Real and desperate.

This time when they broke apart, their foreheads pressed together as both women caught their breath. Serena beamed against Bernie’s cheek, unsure what it all meant but happy, nonetheless. Bernie felt elated until her mind caught up. Stiffening in Serena’s arms, Bernie suddenly pulled back, her eyes wide. Misreading Serena’s concern, she was sure she’d just ruined their friendship.

“Sorry,” Bernie muttered as she stepped away, her arms falling from Serena. Guilt wracked her as she turned and headed for the nearest exit, needing space, and leaving Serena at the bar.

Dumbfounded, and a little hurt, Serena hesitated on the spot before following Bernie – calling her name.

“Bernie?” Serena found the blonde sitting on a bench outside, with her hands over her face. Sitting down next to her, Serena placed her hand on Bernie’s shoulder. “Bernie, it’s all right.”

Letting out a hollow laugh, Bernie shook her head, already resigned to the inevitable conclusion.

“No, no it’s not.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re straight and this isn’t a game for me,” she finally admitted what she’d known all along.

“Well, that’s quite the assumption.”

Bernie looked confused even as hope started to bloom within her. “Aren’t you?”

Serena thought about it, finding that having somewhat of an existential crisis in the middle of a Christmas party to be quite disorientating.

“I’ve never really considered it before.”

Bernie sat back against the bench, with a heavy sigh, rubbing her hands over the tops of her thighs.

“Then forget it. We don’t need … You don’t …” Words were failing her as emotion rose up through her chest, tensing her jaw. The rejection squeezed her ribs and burned the back of her throat.

Bernie made to stand, wanting to leave, to run. But she stopped when she felt a hand grasp her wrist. Looking down, she saw Serena’s fingers, Serena’s hand. Then a small tug as the brunette urged her to sit back down.

“Just because I said I hadn’t considered it before doesn’t mean I won’t consider it now,” Serena spoke in a low voice, her eyes full of newly realised longing.

Looking back on their friendship, on all the time they had spent together, it was becoming clear to Serena that she had never felt only friendship. The dinners, drinks, evenings spent in each other’s company. Serena’s heart soared at the memories and then she knew.

“I like you Bernie,” Serena stated. “I think I more than like you.”

At that Bernie released a long sigh as tension seeped from her. Her eyes softened and her lips turned upwards in a small smile. Serena’s hand let go of Bernie’s wrist to slide down to her hand. Fingers interlocking, both found themselves staring at their joined hands in curious wonder.

“I more than like you too,” Bernie admitted.

“Yes, your kiss told me as much,” Serena chuckled which made Bernie blush and glance away. She found her chin being pulled back towards the brunette, who was looking at her earnestly.

“I liked it.” Serena’s eyes held care and hope, more than Bernie had ever dreamt of being witness to.

Giving Bernie’s hand a squeeze, Serena pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Bernie’s lips.

“I liked it, a lot,” Serena confirmed.

Spurred on by Serena’s response, Bernie asked: “Enough to want to do it again? Maybe after dinner, one day?”

“Ms Wolfe, are you asking me on a date?” Serena smirked, “because I would love to.”

“I’ll make sure it’s somewhere with an extensive wine list,” Bernie smirked in return, with a small shake of her head, her blonde waves cascading over her face.

“I’m sure the company will make up for it, if not.”

Beaming, Bernie gazed lovingly at Serena, resisting the urge to pinch herself. The air was still, the garden quiet. While snow didn’t fall that night, the atmosphere was just as magical for both Serena and Bernie.

As the pair sat on the bench, making plans for the future, Bernie couldn’t help thinking that attending this party had been a good idea, after all.


End file.
